The clamour of the factory was a deafening, metallic world of hammers, grinding gears, and hissing steam. Heat rolled off the heavy machinery in waves, clashing against the dampness outside in the Whirlpool City. Workers moved like cogs—hurried, frantic, and shouting cogs—as they each had their own station and machinery to operate on. Marisol had to fight the urge to skate around like a little kid as a cart overloaded with glowing shells rumbled past a track, their faint bioluminescent hum brushing against her senses.

  Whoa.

  This place… is a lot more advanced than I thought.

  Her eyes darted from one station to another. On the walls, gears the size of water mills turned with groaning weight, driving conveyor belts that carried half-forged weapons to the next stage of their assembly. Steam hissed from clusters of pipes overhead, forming faint plumes that curled like ghostly fingers toward the high, arched ceiling. The air was thick with the tang of metal shavings and oil, stinging her nostrils but grounding her here. In the moment.

  In particular, a massive machine fixed to a dozen conveyor belts to her left drew her attention. The thing towered over everything else, its brass-and-steel frame shuddering with barely restrained energy as it spat out rows of cannon shells. Each shell glowed faintly blue as if they were imbued with magic—they were made from Encrystals, most likely—and they emerged from the machine polished and gleaming before disappearing into a series of thick, steel pipes plunging into the floor.

  She felt the ground vibrating beneath her at all times. She heard workers shouting and hollering at each other despite the suffocating heat. Maria’s confident stride cut through the chaos like a blade, her silent demeanor commanding respect from every worker they passed. It wasn’t hard to see why—unlike Marisol skating closely behind her, she wasn’t just another tourist. She belonged here. She owned the factory. With every glance of acknowledgement, every gesture at workers that ran up to her for instruction, she seemed more and more at home. She hadn’t even seemed so comfortable in her own gargantuan mansion back in the residential district.

  The sheer scale of the factory left Marisol more than momentarily breathless, but eventually she managed to compose herself. Just a little.

  “You ain’t kidding when you said this place was busy, huh?” she muttered, not really expecting a satisfying answer. “There must be hundreds of people in this one factory alone, and you’ve got… what? Five more outside? And ten more inactive factories further beyond that? How do you keep it all running?”

  Maria turned slightly, already pulling out her notebook. A quick scribble later, she flipped it to show Marisol.

  ‘The cannons in the far west must fire at all times, and all equipment damaged in battle must be repaired overnight for use the next morning.’

  ‘The factories cannot sleep.’

  ‘Now come on.’

  ‘Let’s go pick out your Symbiosteel.’

  The words hit harder than she expected. For all the awe she felt at the factory’s power, there was also no mistaking its purpose. Every cannon shell, every weapon, every piece of armor forged here was destined for one thing: to hold back and be destroyed in battle against the Swarm. The machines had been running longer than she’d been alive, and there was a certain poignancy to the fact.

  Nevertheless, they moved on, the chaos of the main factory floor giving way to narrower, darker corridors lined with pipes and control panels as Maria led her up a flight of stairs to the second floor. The noise softened, but didn’t disappear entirely. Condensation dripped steadily from overhead pipes, forming shallow puddles on the uneven floor. She was vaguely aware she was nearing the top of the factory, but whatever she was expecting at the end of the final straight corridor, it wasn’t a heavy set of double metal doors engraved with swirling patterns.

  The doors itself looked fancy enough—and high-security—so when Maria practically kicked them open, Marisol froze.

  … Whoa.

  [You have the same reaction to anything even remotely awe-inspiring.]

  How else are you supposed to react? ‘Oh’?

  [Just saying.]

  As Maria beckoned her in, Marisol skated in slowly, not wanting her glaives to scratch up the delicate marble flooring too much. The giant room was unlike anything else in the factory. The walls swirled and curved inwards like the inside of a massive conch shell, and the lantern-lit room was lined with long shelves stacked to the ceiling with all sorts of goodies: rows of chest plates crafted from overlapping pearls, gauntlets shaped like mantis shrimp pincers, tridents resembling jagged lobster antennae, and there were tons of smaller trinkets, too. Bracelets that coiled like isopods, glass pendants made of hard chitin, and vials swirling with bluish-yellow blood capped with dragonfly tails.

  It was a warehouse for all unused Symbiosteel in the city, and someone else was already in here, browsing the shelves when Maria kicked the doors open.

  Marisol paused when Reina stopped inspecting a crab-shell pauldron coiled in her scorpion tail as well, their eyes snapping onto each other.

  …

  For a moment, Marisol thought about slipping back into the corridor. It was an absurd thought—Maria was right behind her, and Reina had already noticed her—but the urge to avoid confrontation was strong.

  Maria didn’t give her the chance. The doors swung shut with a soft thud, and the sound made Marisol’s chest tighten.

  The last time she’d spoken with Reina was two weeks ago, before Depth Five. Though they’d been on the same ‘side’ when they were extracting from the Depth, the memory of that mission still hung heavy between them, unspoken, undeniable. Marisol bit her lip, guilt gnawing at her insides. It wasn’t just the Archive she’d ignored after that day. She’d retreated from everyone, wrapping herself in solitude like a shield, and… in a sense, it was like she’d been trying to undo what little friendship she’d built with Reina. And Maria. And everyone else who’d been worried about her.

  But Reina didn’t hesitate.

  Closing the distance in a few quick strides, the Lighthouse Imperator pulled Marisol into a hug, and her scorpion tail wrapped painfully around Marisol’s waist like a noose.

  “You look like crap,” Reina muttered, her voice low and barely above a whisper.

  The lightness in her tone didn’t quite mask the concern behind it, but Marisol chose not to push.

  For now, the simple act of being here, together again, was enough.

  And a quiet laugh escaped Marisol, surprising even herself.

  “... Yeah,” she said softly, “I’ve been… feeling like it, too.”

  Reina stepped back just enough to study her face, her brows furrowing. “You okay now?”

  “I just ate an entire C-Rank Mutant-Class crab by myself.”

  Reina held her gaze for a moment longer before nodding, the faintest hint of a smile curling her lips. “Good. Wouldn’t want you staying mopey forever.”

  Then Maria cleared her throat—or rather, made a sharp tapping sound with her quill against her notebook—to draw their attention. She gestured toward the shelves, her expression patient but expectant.

  ‘Take your pick’, she wrote. ‘You can both have anything you want.’

  Marisol blinked, her gaze sweeping over the rows of Symbiosteel. The sheer variety was overwhelming. She was no connoisseur, but she felt each piece was a masterpiece in its own right.

  “Any of it?” Marisol asked, her voice tinged with awe.

  Maria shrugged plainly, and Reina hummed softly as she went back to browsing the shelves. Her fingers and tail trailed along the edge of a gleaming trident tipped with serrated lobster antennae, her sharp eyes scanning the collection with casual interest. The hum wasn’t tuneless—it had the vague melody of a pleasant sea shanty, and Marisol couldn’t help but smile a little as she watched Reina bounce through the storage room.

  It seemed like they’d get along again just fine.

  ‘... For reference,’ Maria scribbled in her notebook and held it up for Marisol, ‘All of us Lighthouse Imperators have at least two or three E-Rank Symbiosteel equipped.’

  Marisol blinked at the note. This time, it was Reina who looked over from behind a gap in the shelves.

  “I’m wearing a few pieces right now,” Reina said, pulling down her uniform collar a little to tap a thin, discreet plate of chitin Marisol had never noticed before. “Eurypteria may be the only water scorpion above Mutant-Class anyone has ever spotted, but I’ve been looking for and hunting Giant-Class water scorpions in Depth Four for the past few years, and I’ve managed to kill some. I gave their carcasses to the factories so they can be turned into a chest plate, a pauldron, and greaves that give me extra toughness and dexterity. Water scorpion parts have natural dexterity bonuses, so I basically never leave them behind when I have to dive.”

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  ‘And I’m wearing a tight undershirt made of whirligig beetle fabric under my uniform as well,’ Maria wrote, lifting her uniform shirt up to reveal a black undershirt over her waist. ‘I move quickly, so this undershirt has natural properties that makes it especially tougher to tear during rapid movements.’

  ‘Basically, even if I move so fast my uniform rips, I still won’t be naked. Probably.’

  As Reina and Maria chipped in with their own comments, the Archive pulled up status screens next to both of their heads, and Marisol took a glance at their respective Symbiosteel.

  [Water Scorpion Chestplate (Quality: E-Rank)(Tou: +2/3)(Dex: +1/1)(Aura: -290)]

  [Water Scorpion Pauldron (Quality: E-Rank)(Tou: +0/1)(Dex: +1/1)(Aura: -260)]

  [Water Scorpion Greaves (Quality: E-Rank)(Tou: +1/3)(Dex: +1/1)(Aura: -260)]

  [Water Bug Contact Lenses (Quality: F-Rank)(Per: +1/1)(Aura -100)]

  [Whirligig Beetle Compression Undershirt (Quality: E-Rank)(Spd: +1/1)(Aura: -280)]

  [Whirligig Beetle Compression Shorts (Quality: E-Rank)(Spd: +1/1)(Aura: -280)]

  [Diving Beetle Shoes (Quality: E-Rank)(Spd: 1/1)(Aura: -470)]

  Maria’s quill poised over her notebook again, and she scribbled another note before flashing it at Marisol.

  ‘You’re strangely naked in that sense. All you’ve had this entire time are that crab scarf and those remipede earrings, right?’

  Compared to Reina’s reinforced attire and Maria’s speed-based fabrics, it was true that Marisol didn’t have much of anything under the ‘Equipped Symbiosteel’ section of her status screen, so while Maria pushed her around the storage room to appraise the city’s selection of magical parasitic equipment, the Archive offered its own comments as well.

  [It is indeed true that most Guard and Imperators equip at least one or two Symbiosteel,] it said. [Do you notice how some of their equipment have relatively low aura costs?]

  Yeah?

  [If your Symbiosteel shares the same class as you—'Class-Compatible Symbiosteel', they are called—then in addition to being able to gain its full attribute levels, you will also be able to equip them with reduced drain to your aura,] the Archive explained. [Reina has the Water Scorpion Class, so Water Scorpion Compatible Symbiosteel is what she prefers to equip. However, since water scorpions are also part of the ‘Water Bug’ category of bugs, people with Water Scorpion Classes can also equip Water Bug Compatible Symbiosteel and gain all of its offered attribute levels while suffering only its normal cost of aura drain. In the same vein, because whirligig beetles are part of the ‘Beetle’ category, Maria can equip Diving Beetle Compatible Symbiosteel and gain all of its attribute levels while suffering only its normal cost of aura drain.]

  But if she were to equip Ant Compatible Symbiosteel, maybe she wouldn't be able to get that one level in speed?

  [Most likely. The general rule to remember is this: if you equip 'Incompatible Symbiosteel', you would gain reduced attribute levels and bear the full cost of aura drain. If you equip 'Type-Compatible Symbiosteel', you would gain all the offered attribute levels but still bear the full cost of aura drain. However, if you equip 'Class-Compatible Symbiosteel', you would gain all the offered attribute levels and enjoy a reduced cost of aura drain.]

  [The advantages of equipping Incompatible Symbiosteel are typically not worth it for how little attribute levels you will obtain and how much aura it will cost you.]

  As she wandered between the shelves, the Archive pulled up a status screen for every Symbiosteel she passed by. Their names, attribute levels, and aura cost flickered into her vision.

  Yet, as her eyes darted from one Symbiosteel to the next, disappointment set in quicker and quicker. None of them were made out of water striders.

  “Maria,” she began, glancing over her shoulder, “are there really no—”

  ‘No.’

  ‘No water striders have been spotted or slain in decades.’

  The Archive chimed in again, calm and matter-of-fact. [Correct. As I mentioned long ago, not a single water strider from Critter-Class to Insect God has been spotted in the past two decades. They have been made extinct by the Worm God. Therefore, there are no Water Strider Compatible Symbiosteel.]

  So… I'm just screwed? I ain't ever gonna get a Class-Compatible Symbiosteel.

  [Not entirely. Remember the Imperatrix’s report from two weeks ago about the sighting of an S-Rank Mutant-Class water strider attacking the fleet of evacuating warships?] the Archive mused. [Perhaps it is the only survivor of the Worm God's purge, and has been secretly growing stronger outside the Whirlpool City for the past two decades. I wonder if we will hear reports of it using its Art in the near future.]

  … I ain't skating all the way out to the great blue just to kill it for its parts.

  [And I would not recommend you do so. For one, you should not be leaving this city at the moment, and second, it is an S-Rank Mutant-Class. You are not strong enough to beat it right now,] the Archive said plainly.

  Then is there anything I can equip? Not even Type-Compatible Symbiosteel? What type of bug is a water strider, anyways? Is a crab a water bug?

  [There are entire fields of study revolving simply around the taxonomy of bugs. Researchers spend their entire lives struggling how to categorize bugs properly. It would be difficult for a layman to know if whether crabs share the same type as lobsters, or if lobsters share the same type as shrimps, or if shrimps share the same type as water bugs, but that is why I am here as your Archive, no?] the Archive said proudly. [And fortunately for you, I can confidently tell you that water striders are part of the 'Water Bug' type of bugs—same as water scorpions, seed bugs, et cetera—which means any Symbiosteel Reina can equip, you can also equip. Would you like me to highlight those ones for you?]

  Oh.

  Uh.

  Sure.

  Most of the status screens across the room faded away, leaving behind… surprisingly few that were made of water bugs. She beelined towards those, and she noticed they were mostly trinkets. Lots of them glinted under soft lantern light, but nothing about them drew Marisol’s attention. Most were the same—pendants shaped like shield bugs, brooches lined with lobster tails, and bracelets etched with patterns of crabs and shrimps. Ornate, yes. Useful? None of them appeared to give many attribute levels, if any significant levels at all.

  [Unfortunately, most water bugs live close to the shoreline of the mainland continent. It would appear the Whirlpool City is not particularly stocked up on water bug parts, nor is this city particularly famous for the Symbiosteel it manufactures, so your selection is a little sparse.]

  Marisol nodded absently, still running her fingers over a brooch shaped like a beetle’s wing, but then her gaze snapped over to something different. A roll of bandages, tucked away from the rest. They weren’t shiny, they weren’t metallic, but they also weren’t the dull, practical kind she was used to seeing. These were striped—gentle blues, pinks, purples twined together, with faint flower patterns scattered across them like delicate petals floating on water.

  They looked almost... elegant.

  [Water Boatmen Bandages (Quality: E-Rank)(Spd: +0/?)(Dex: +0/?)(Aura: -?)]

  “What’s this?” she murmured, lifting the roll. The coloured fabric felt cool and smooth in her palm, and both Lighthouse Imperators immediately poked their heads over to look at the ‘Symbiosteel’ in her hands.

  “Water boatmen bandages,” Reina said immediately, recognising the interest. “Water boatmen are surface aquatic bugs like your water striders and your whirligig beetles. I think… Maria, you made this, right? What do they do again?”

  ‘I stripped their flesh and turned them into fabric,’ Maria immediately scribbled in her pages. ‘The more strips of bandages come in contact with your skin, the more speed and dexterity they’ll give. If you have the Water Boatmen Class, their special quality will help you stay afloat. Keep you from sinking even if you’re unconscious.’

  It's a very good Symbiosteel. The Harbour Guards love these bandages. Would recommend.’

  Marisol unfurled the bandages slowly, the fabric slipping easily between her fingers. It had a soft weight to it, not too thick, not too thin. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

  Speed and dexterity—just like Maria said, it was about the perfect fit for her. And maybe it was just the flower patterns, or maybe it was the thought of being lighter, faster... but the bandages appealed to her more than she liked to admit.

  They were pretty.

  “I’ll take these, then,” she said, holding up the roll and grinning at the ladies as she did. “I ain’t gonna put them on right now, though. Too much hassle. I’ll put it on tomorrow morning and see how many levels I can get.”

  Reina gave her a thumbs up through a hole in the shelves, while Maria was already moving on, her quill dancing over her notebook again. ‘We have weavers as well,’ she wrote. ‘We can make you entirely new clothes out of water boatmen parts. Something practical. You can get out of your shoddy Sand-Dancer clothes while you’re at it.’

  Marisol’s eyes flicked to Maria. “Clothes?”

  ‘What design you want?’

  ‘We can weave anything.’

  It wasn’t an easy question. Clothes weren’t just about protection or comfort for a Sand-Dancer. They were about expression as well. Freedom. Movement. Something that could let her balance on the edge of life and death, spin and twist and fight with the grace of someone who’d been born to dance.

  “Something… flexible?” she said after a moment, considering. “Like what I wear now, but tougher? I don’t think my sand-dancer clothes are shoddy. Can your weavers replicate my exact clothing?”

  Maria looked her up and down for a moment before giving her a small nod of acknowledgment.

  ‘Can.’

  ‘Wait one or two weeks, then.’

  With that, Maria held her hand out, beckoning Marisol to hand the roll of bandages over. Marisol assumed it was going to be sent right to her temporary room in Lighthouse Seven so she wouldn’t have to carry it back herself, even though it was so small and light she could easily imagine wrapping the entire roll across her body…

  And then she had a thought.

  A funny thought.

  Archive.

  [What is it?]

  I never looked too closely and I never asked, but is the old man wearing the same bandages?

  [...]

  She grinned as she tossed Maria the roll. It wasn’t like she didn’t already have a good guess on what his class was, but now she’d all but confirmed his class was, at the very least, within the water bug type.

  Same as her.

  As she was about to continue browsing the shelves for anything else that might catch her eye, a distant rumble interrupted the moment, followed by what sounded like a massive building crumbling outside.

  Her muscles tensed. Maria turned to stare directly at the wall. Reina’s scorpion tail shuddered from stinger to base as well, but Marisol had gotten better at reading the air currents recently, and even standing in this room, she could tell it was no big deal. Just a few Giant-Class wormholes collapsing and releasing crustaceans onto the streets, no doubt—but now she locked eyes with Reina, and the two of them gave each other their strongest grins.

  Maria didn’t even glance up from her notebook as she yanked the doors open again.

  ‘Claudia probably told you to take the night off, but just one more hunt wouldn’t hurt, right?’

  ‘Beat her, Rei-Rei.’

  ‘By my authority as the Second Lighthouse Imperator, whoever kills the most Giant-Classes and brings their carcasses to me gets all the points.’

  “… Race you to the wormholes?” Marisol said, cracking her neck, stretching her legs as she winked at Reina.

  Reina’s grin widened even further.

  Then they both took off down the corridor, and it was like she melted into the speed for the first time in a while—all weight flying off her shoulders.

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